


Greyhound

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, post hijacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: The walk to the platform is slow and quiet.





	Greyhound

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by fanart by [yelyzavetaart](http://yelyzavetaart.tumblr.com/post/141405165037/this-looks-suspiciously-like-scully-and-mulder-and)

The walk to the platform is slow and quiet. She keeps fidgeting with the bus ticket in her jacket pocket. Just a week, she tells herself, seven days, refusing to count the hours, minutes. The growing numbers like grains of sand, finite yet immeasurable, seemingly. For once it is he, who matches her pace, letting people rush by them. Falling snow dances around them, first snow they waited for, but which came too late. The greyhound bus glistens, cold steel under fluorescent light.  
She travels light, one suitcase, a backpack, his heart. It’s the most cliche of goodbyes, one joyous week for her, 168 hours of purgatory for him, if he wasn’t a jewish atheist that is. It’s the universal hell of loneliness, a bursting bubble of something not yet named but there, barely noticed. It’s the first goodbye they’ll say in 3 months, and it only dawns on them, how tightly wound they became in that short amount of time.  
The tears won’t come, they turn to ice, crusting around hearts, heavy, heavier, the heaviest.  
One week can feel like a lifetime.  
She stops and finally looks up. What do you say, when no words can bring comfort. If anyone told her, she’d be this dramatic, she’d scoff and dismiss it, no, that’s not me. Yet here she is, forcing the corners of her lips to lift.  
“I’ll call you, when I get home.” He nods, hands in jacket pockets, worrying his lip. The driver calls last passengers to hurry. “Hey, look at me,” this is not how she wants to remember him, “I’ll be…”  
He doesn’t give her a chance to finish. One hand on her hip, he leans in, catching her lips. It’s awkward but gentle, a shy admission 3 months in the making. His nose is cold, as is his cheek when she cups it, framing her lips around his. Our first kiss was a goodbye kiss, she will write in her diary.  
The man yells his final call for departure, but they ignore him. Neither wants to be the one who broke free first, so they wait four rushing heartbeats, five, six…  
“Kids!” Voice aimed at them this time. “Time’s a-wastin’!”  
So they let go, her face is in his hands, kiss to her forehead. Thumbs try to brush the blush away, unsuccessfully.  
“Come back to me,” he breathes and she takes her backpack off his shoulder.  
“Happy hanukah, Mulder.”  
“Merry Christmas, Scully.” He smiles, finally.


End file.
